


In Pursuit of A Better Future

by Set_Suna



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, No Beta We Die Like Wilbur in Skyblockle, Panic Attacks, Platonic Affection, Self-Worth Issues, The InBetween - Freeform, Time Travel, phantom pains, time traveller karl, we stan platonic affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29234439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Set_Suna/pseuds/Set_Suna
Summary: There was a tug in the back of Karl’s mind. A gentle whisper rang in his ears, calling out to him and beckoning him to come near. He glanced at the clock. It was getting late. He hadn’t felt the call in a while, it was about time. He pushed his chair away from the desk. He swiped theTales From the SMPbook from its spot on a table and walked towards the trapdoor purposefully. He flipped through the pages, finding the next blank space and watching as words began to form. The glow grew brighter as he descended the ladder, hearing the pop and crack of the portal as its energy peaked.“Where are we going today?” he asked the air, looking up at the swirl of purple and teal energy before him.
Relationships: Karl Jacobs & Sapnap
Comments: 8
Kudos: 115





	In Pursuit of A Better Future

**Author's Note:**

> mmmmm Tales has been FUCKING with me so I physically had to write about Our Man Karl Jacobs I love him he is so cool Karl appreciation here we go
> 
> also credit where credit's due I got the title from a post tumblr user netheritenugget made it kinda Hit Different

Karl chewed on the end of his quill, staring intensely at a page in his diary. He needed to get these books written, before it all slipped his mind. He couldn’t risk getting the information wrong. When- _If_ he forgot, he needed to know the right details. But, his mind was blanking. If he tried too hard to remember, his head filled with static. He shouldn’t be forgetting the Pogtopia vs. Manberg war. He was there. He fought in it. So why did it hurt his brain trying so hard to remember?

He hummed, annoyed, and ran a hand through his hair. He scanned the previous pages, looking for anything, hoping for anything to trigger a memory. There was Fundy’s turn to Pogtopia and Dream’s assured alliance with Schlatt. He remembered the festival weeks before, where Tubbo was revealed as a spy and executed. He reached the battle and remembered fighting alongside Sapnap and Punz, fighting against Tommy and Wilbur, but how did it end? He closed his eyes and groaned, knocking his forehead against his desk. His memories lasted until he was faced with Techno, shoving him to the ground and pointing his rocket launcher in his face. The rocket was fired, and that's where Karl’s recollection ended. 

A stab of pain shot through his head and stung his temples. Why? What was he missing? Schlatt was gone, but so was Wilbur. Tommy was still here, but he was in exile for a long while. This was such important history. How messed up did his brain have to be to forget it so easily? 

He hissed as another ache plagued his head. In a flash, he remembered, Tommy standing over Schlatt, staring in thinly veiled horror as the man had a heart attack and was dead in seconds. It sped ahead, and Karl remembered the ground falling from beneath him as L’manberg was blown to smithereens. He remembered Techno’s sword passing through his abdomen, fighting to keep his Withers alive as he protested the mere idea of a government. Then, it was gone. He gripped the edge of the desk, breaths heaving shakily. Yeah. That’s how it happened. That’s why there was an unsalvageable crater just outside his door.

With shaking hands, Karl picked up his quill. He needed to do this. Before he forgot. His script was messy, hard to read and uneven in its lines. It’d be fine. Someone could decipher it. It just had to be noted down. He had to remember. 

At times like these, he hated traveling. He hated that he had to risk his memories to do this. Still, he couldn’t stop. He had to do what he could to help. He’d tried already, he’d tried so hard to prevent the worst turn of events, but each time he failed. He’d removed the button, but L’manberg still blew up. He’d seen the town that went mad, but failed to remember the reason why. He felt like he was on the verge of something, of some groundbreaking discovery that showed him why everyone only lost on this server and never gained. If only he wasn’t unravelling at the seams. 

He glanced over his shoulder, staring at the corner where he knew he’d go again. He’d climb through that trapdoor and down the ladder. He’d walk across the cave and enter that portal again, to feel himself be torn apart and put together again in another place, in another time, where he’d inhabit the body of someone who’d never know him and experience their life through their eyes, or maybe be lucky enough to experience it himself. He’d see some dark future or grim past and try to learn from it. He’d note it down in his journals and pace the room hidden behind his library, thinking and wondering so hard about how he could fix it. He was the only one with this power. It was up to him to save everyone from a fate worse than death. 

The quill scratched against the parchment, creating lines upon lines of history that needed to be written accurately. He remembered the skewed and just plain wrong history kept in Mizu. He could stop that. He could make sure everyone was remembered for who they really were. His hand froze, stuck in place as a cold chill ran down his spine. He stared at the point where ink met paper. He’d barely started to write the next letter. He knew what it was supposed to be. _Dream._ Every instinct in his body told him that man--that entity--was not to be trusted. It struck a fear deep in his core, and he knew the origin. It all linked back to Mizu. How the city’s keeper worshipped Dream. How he’d slayed each of the fishermen one by one. 

He shivered, remembering seeing and feeling it all through Isaac’s eyes. Not again. He didn’t want that to happen ever again.

He closed the book, finished with this story. Pogtopia vs. Manberg was a brutal and will-shattering war. It’d torn land, families, and friends apart. To recount on it untruthfully would be unfair to the love and lives lost in its wake. 

There was a tug in the back of Karl’s mind. A gentle whisper rang in his ears, calling out to him and beckoning him to come near. He glanced at the clock. It was getting late. He hadn’t felt the call in a while, it was about time. He pushed his chair away from the desk. He swiped the _Tales From the SMP_ book from its spot on a table and walked towards the trapdoor purposefully. He flipped through the pages, finding the next blank space and watching as words began to form. The glow grew brighter as he descended the ladder, hearing the pop and crack of the portal as its energy peaked. 

“Where are we going today?” he asked the air, looking up at the swirl of purple and teal energy before him. 

It was time to go.

-

White. A gentle breeze. A cool familiarity slowly overwhelming his senses. Karl’s eyes fluttered open. The Inbetween. So it was over. The white walls of the mysterious castle almost seemed like they should be imposing, but he knew this was only a place of safety. He was supposed to learn more about time travelling and his memory loss here. He needed to get started, while he still had the time. That was the thing about Karl’s life recently: he had no idea how much time he had left. For anything, really. 

He walked the empty halls, listening to his footsteps echo off the marble walls and watching the white leaves rustle in the gentle winds blowing across the courtyards. It was so peaceful. If he could achieve this type of peace in the SMP by continuing to travel, he had to believe his deterioration would be worth it. He didn’t really understand this realm, but that’s why he was exploring it. This was all part of what he had to do. He had to do his part.

He could salvage his memory. He could save his friends. He could keep the SMP’s history and make sure it’s stories were preserved. He just had to trust in whatever force was pulling him back and forth through time.

-

Karl felt it. His limbs dissolving and reassembling as he spiraled back. It ended too soon, too quick, the same way it had in Mizu. His friends--they were gone. Dead. The feeling lingered, the cool lick of a sword passing through his chest and across his neck. His eyes were blurry, his hands were shaking. He barely had the strength to cling to the _Tales From the SMP_. He struggled to breathe, and as the world spun around him he clamped his eyes shut. Spinning, spinning, spinning, his world contorted and twisted until he felt like he would vomit. He might have, if he didn’t collapse onto cold stone ground. 

The warmth traveling brought disappeared instantly, leaving him shivering and shaking as he weakly pushed himself onto his hands and knees. The _Tales’_ glow gradually faded as the portal’s energy diminished, casting the cave in a dark shade of loneliness. His vision was spotty, each breath stung his chest like a wasp pricking his skin. He lifted his head, the soft blue shine of lanterns forming a blob-like beacon ahead of him. He had to move. He had to write it all down. He had to preserve this history before he forgot it.

He clutched the _Tales_ to his chest with one hand, using the other to pull himself up the cave wall. He leaned heavily against the stone, chest burning with a phantom pain the temporary bliss of the Inbetween couldn’t remove. He forced his legs to move, lungs heaving with the effort. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, and his erratic breaths were starting to turn into pained sobs. It hurt, it hurt _so bad_ this time. What if it only got worse?

Climbing the ladder was the worst. His fingers could barely grip the rungs. He shoved the trapdoor up with his shoulder, hauling himself up and tumbling onto the floor. His neck and chest felt like they were on fire. He dropped the _Tales From the SMP_ and ran his shaking fingers over the invisible wounds he could still feel. His skin was smooth, untouched and undamaged, but it _hurt,_ like he’d been branded by a scalding hot iron. 

He couldn’t get a grip, couldn’t find the strength to raise his arms or take control of his breathing. He sobbed into his sweatshirt sleeves, throat raw and desperate for the air it couldn’t find. Maybe he should’ve tried harder, because everything went black, and his only thought was of how he’d failed.

-

Sound came back to him first. Someone’s muffled voice was reaching his ears. Then he could feel. There were hands on his arms, shaking him just a little too roughly. He opened his eyes, barely seeing through the dim light around them. He glanced upward, eyes landing on a face he knew he recognized. Olive skin, brown eyes, shaggy brown hair, white headband, Karl knew him. His brain failed to provide him with a name. 

He exhaled, hands squeezing Karl’s arms in relief. “Christ, Karl, you were really scaring me.”

He was important. He was so important, Karl could tell by the way his heart clenched and a feeling of happiness bloomed in his chest. So why, why couldn’t he remember his _freaking_ name?

“Are you alright, man? Passed out on the floor is not where I expected to find you,” he continued, helping Karl sit up.

A rush of nausea ran over him, making his head spin. He averted his eyes from the man in front of him, nodding slowly in an attempt to make the sick feeling go away. His eyes landed on the _Tales From the SMP_ across the room, and everything came back to him at once. He’d passed out before he’d written anything down. He scrambled away, scooping up the book and pulling a blank book from it’s frame. 

“Yeah, yeah, Sap, I’m okay,” Karl answered quickly, pausing when he realized he remembered his name. He shook his head fiercely, opening the book and beginning to scribble down the events of his trip before he forgot. His legs were shaking and his hands were trembling so much his writing looked like chickenscratch. 

Sapnap appeared behind him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Hey, slow down, man, you’re, like, about to fall over.”

“I’m fine,” Karl insisted breathily, not looking up from the book. He flipped the page. He needed to do this. He needed to get this down. 

“Karl, listen to me-” Sapnap tried, reaching for his hand.

“I said I’m fine!” he snapped, knocking Sapnap’s hand away. 

“Karl, _please-”_

His hand spasmed, making him drop his quill and mark a long, dark streak of ink across the open pages. He bit back a gasp, bringing his balled fists up tight to his chest instead of trying to push himself any further. He’d ruined it. It was the one thing he had to do and he couldn’t even do it right. He felt how hard his knees were shaking, now. He took a panicked step back, jumping when he bumped into Sapnap’s side. Sapnap wrapped a supportive arm around his waist, keeping him standing when it felt like his legs would fail. 

“Hey, it's okay,” he whispered, pulling his eyes from the abandoned book to look at Karl instead. 

His eyes were locked on the pages, quickly turning glassy with unshed tears. His mouth was barely open, stuck on one suspended breath. His hands were trembling against his chest, and he was sure if Sapnap took his arm away he would fall to his knees. 

Sapnap tugged him closer to his side and mumbled, “Karl, Karl look at me.”

Karl blinked once. He breathed in hard, the air stinging as it entered his lungs. He glanced over, locking eyes with Sapnap and feeling his tears break through the dams and spill down his cheeks. Sapnap pulled him into a hug, slipping one hand protectively over the back of his head. Karl weakly raised his hands, holding the front of Sapnap’s shirt between his fingers. He buried his face in his shoulder, inhaling the scent of wood and smoke. 

“You’re alright,” Sapnap mumbled in his ear. He ran a soothing hand up and down Karl’s back. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

“It’s not,” Karl hiccupped, tightening his grip on Sapnap’s shirt. “It’s not okay.” 

“What-What do you mean?” Sapnap asked, and Karl despised the worry in his voice.

There was nothing he could _say._ He had to keep his travelling a secret. No one could know how he got these stories or where he disappeared to for hours on end. Not even Sapnap. The weight of the SMP’s past and future rested on his shoulders, and there was no one he could share it with. It was his burden to bear alone. But maybe that was for the best. Everyone already had so much to carry. He could handle this on his own. 

“Karl, what’s wrong?” Sapnap asked again, more serious when he didn’t get an answer the first time.

Karl swallowed, exhaling shakily before speaking. “This-This is my one job. This is the one thing I have to do. If I can’t even handle this then-then what’s my _purpose_ here at all?” 

“What?” Sapnap blanched. He pulled Karl back by the shoulders and stared directly into his eyes. “You are worth so much more than your library, dude. I’d rather lose this whole place than lose you.” 

A burst of panic bubbled up Karl’s throat. He latched onto Sapnap’s wrists and exclaimed, “No! No, I can’t lose the library! No matter what, I _cannot_ lose this library.” 

Sapnap groaned frustratedly. “Why? Why does this mean so much to you? All you’ve been doing is writing and writing cooped up in this room, and for what?”

“Because-!” Karl snapped his mouth shut. Because he was _so close_ to figuring out what was wrong with this place. Because he finally had a way he could help. Because he might actually have a way to solve all of the problems that had plagued this land from the beginning. Because he had people he wanted to protect, and this was the one way he could do it. “Because I have to do my part! Fighting is everyone else’s thing, not mine! Keeping the SMP’s history is what _I_ can do to help. And if I don’t do this, then… then I don’t know what I’d do.” 

He hated the quiet tension between them. There was so much to say, but Karl could say none of it. He hung his head, choosing to stare at the purple and green spiral carpet instead of Sapnap’s warm brown eyes. 

“I don’t get it,” Sapnap grumbled eventually, sounding more upset than confused. “What’s so great about this place’s history that makes it deserving to be kept?” 

“You… You keep history so you can learn from it, right? So we can make sure it never happens again?” Karl reasoned, sniffling all the while. “So much has happened here, and-and so much is still happening. Letting all of this die would just be… wrong.” 

Sapnap dropped his hands from Karl’s shoulders. He looked to the abandoned travel log and crossed his arms over his abdomen. “What if I don’t want to remember?” 

He froze. His heart hurt in his chest. Oh yeah. He forgot how much this place had taken from Sapnap. His best-friend-turned-enemy sat in a maximum security prison cell as they spoke. But not everything was terrible, right?

“I know you don’t mean that,” Karl whispered, taking his turn to reach out and grab Sapnap’s hand. “I know there are memories you don’t wanna forget.” 

He watched Sapnap deflate. He squeezed Karl’s hand and mumbled, “I just- I don’t want it to make me lose you, too.” 

In seconds, Karl pulled Sapnap into another hug. Tears were streaming from his eyes again, dripping onto that same spot on Sapnap’s collar. They were sad and scared, but in a whole different way.

“I’m trying,” Karl choked. “I’m trying so hard not to lose myself.” 

Sapnap’s fingers slowly dug into the back of his sweatshirt. He was warm--he was always warm--and safe and Karl felt like if someday he didn’t belong anywhere, he’d belong right here, in Sapnap’s arms. He planted a kiss on the side of Karl’s head before resting his cheek on his hair. 

“I’ll never lose you, if there’s anything I can do about it,” Sapnap mumbled, holding Karl a little bit tighter, a little bit closer. “I-I’m gonna keep you safe, Karl. I swear I will.” 

Every inch of him wanted to believe it. So, he did. He let himself hold on to that feeling. That even if he forgot everything, even if all he remembered was time travelling, someone would be looking out for him. 

A sob echoed throughout the library. Karl clung to Sapnap, never wanting to leave his side again. He didn’t know when they ended up on the floor, but Sapnap didn’t let him go. They stayed there until Karl had cried himself dry. They sat in silence, calming down in each other’s presence. It wasn’t until Karl had given in to his exhaustion and fallen asleep that Sapnap moved them. Karl didn’t dream. He slept soundly, feeling even just a little more secure.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed it!!! I'm gonna try to get back on the Pogtopia Breakdown grind soon, there's definitely some paths I wanna explore there.
> 
> I appreciate any and all comments/kudos/bookmarks you choose to leave! 
> 
> You can follow my [tumblr](https://quibbels.tumblr.com/) for fic updates and my [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/quiblii) to see more stuff from me!


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